File this under "patting myself on the back" (again)

Sarah, the co-race director of Headlands, tells me that Wendell, the other co-race director, has recently determined that the Headlands 100 course actually has 19,650' of total elevation gain (a couple thousand more than previously estimated) -- which is great news because it makes me feel even better about my finish. And they are upping the time limit to 33 hours. The main reason I am delighted by this news is that it means that the the Headlands course has more elevation gain than Western States. Which increases my optimism that I can finish WS in under 30 hours.

Of course, my trouble was probably more the elevation loss, and WS has more loss. . . but I'll be better at downhill running by next June I swear.

While I'm talking about Headlands, I want to say again that PCTR is a great organization and anyone who has the chance to do one of their races should absolutely do so. Here is their website if you'd like to see their extensive race calendar.

My niece, Stella Katherine. OMG I can't wait to meet her next weekend!!!

Yesterday was a great 10 mile trail run with the group and Sonja (and other doggies). I'm feeling healthy and good and cheery. Of course, how could you not feel cheery looking at this little girl! I just want to squeal and make cutsey baby sounds and pinch stuff.

Two weeks post 100

I'm still basically basking in the glory of what I feel like was a good achievement for me, but I am trying to remove the gluttony/inactive part. I've been jogging a few easy miles here and there but am anxious to get back into the swing of things. So, this morning Leanne and I did a trail race up Big Mountain (or Whitefish Mountain or whatever it's called now) and it was pretty tough but we really worked it. My lungs were on fire and my quads were burning but we worked hard for the whole hour it took us to get up. Unfortunately, I took a wrong turn and took a whole group of folks on a half mile detour but hey, bonus miles! Also, now that I've had more time to reflect and forget what the whining was about I'm pretty sure I will be signing up for Western States. I only remember having fun! I'd like to train a little smarter and see if I can take a couple hours off my hundred time :p (which I will obviously need to do). Leanne and I are going to train for her to BQ this Spring (and me too I hope) as part of my training. Today was a good reminder of how good it feels to push as hard as possible and feel the burn. I pretty much never do that anymore! (edit, maybe not "as hard as possible" but relative to my normal ambling it was a solid effort).

This (above) is the elevation profile for the race. It's not super duper hardcore but it was pretty hard.

Also, I want to welcome Isaac Galileo Ramisch into the world (Josh and Eric spawned! They are the ones who we visited in Kenya when they were living there). Seems everyone is having babies. Must have been a long winter.

P.S. Ted and I are busy improving our bocci ball skillz. We won't lose again!!!

Headlands 100 Race Report

Basics:

This was a hundred mile foot race (100.5 miles technically) in the Marin Headlands, just across the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin County, north of San Francisco. I finished 34/34 (DFL) in 32:26:58. There were 57 starters and 34 finishers. So, about 60% finished. So that makes DFL look better than it sounds :p There was 17,740 total feet of elevation gain with about the same amount of elevation loss. The course is relentlessly up and down, with steep rocky trails and even long sets of stairs thrown in for good measure. I am unable to recall much in the way of flat trail. There is a 50 mile loop and then two 25 mile loops. It was a tough course. I think everyone who was out there would agree that it was one tough course.

I’m sure I’m forgetting things, but I’ve made my best effort at a race report.

The Fog:

The race begins on Rodeo Beach near Fort Cronkhite. Check-in was relaxed and smooth. There is also a 50 mile run, which was much more popular, but there weren’t so many people that the atmosphere was stressful or crazy. I quickly spotted and chatted with friends and met Sarah Spelt, one of the co-RDs and half of the PCTR organization. She is a rock star. Her husband Wendell Doman, who is also incredibly cool, is the other half of the outfit. They put on a ton of races in California (and one in Oregon I believe) and do an excellent job.

When it was time to line up, I went to the back. My plan, to the extent that I had one, was to run conservatively and maximize my chances of finishing. It’s hard to describe how I felt right at the start, but you know how you have two choices when water is really cold and you can either jump in or slowly ease into the water? I felt like I jumped in. And, as is always the case, I very quickly warmed up and enjoyed being in the water/race.



The run starts by traversing Rodeo Beach, which is quite difficult since it’s, well, sand. We then headed up the hillside into the dense and cool fog. I almost immediately fell into pace with two awesome women, Becky and Nancy (who I kept calling Linda), who were running the 50 miler. Becky quickly showed me which plant was poison oak, which was abundant. I’m glad she told me. The first miles were very cool and comfortable. The air was rich with oxygen and damp. These first miles also went very quickly and my memory of them is appropriately foggy. They flew by. I do recall that a few miles near the beginning were on pavement as we wound our way up to the top of a hill, where we met the trail that took us up and down, up and down, up and down to the first aid station at Rodeo Valley.

Somewhere around mile 10, on a long long long long uphill, we picked up my new friend Kim. Kim was making her second 100 miler attempt after dropping at mile 75 of Umstead with a knee injury. Kim, Becky, Nancy and I ran together for most of the rest of the next 50 miles – and I stuck with Kim until around mile 62. But more on that later.

(left to right: Kim, Danni, Becky, Nancy - pic courtesy of Becky)

The Journey to Bolinas Ridge:

Around mile 20 the fog burned off and, simultaneously, we began our ascent to the highest point on the course, which was 2,000 feet. No, that’s not high, but when you start the ascent at sea level, it can be a bit of a challenge. Add to that the relentless sun and heat on the exposed trail, and you’ve got a real challenge. But, the views were absolutely stunning. Running above the ocean is quite unlike what I’m accustomed to. The sounds of the ocean, which could be heard all day and night and day, were wonderful. This part of the course was the greatest physical challenge in the normal sense. I thought we did a great job on this section.

As it started to cool, I became excited for sunset. Running all night had long appealed to me, and I was thrilled to have the opportunity. The sunset itself was worth it all. The sun began setting shortly before we finished the first 50 miles, and I felt on top of the world.

The Dark Sets In:

Leaving Rodeo Beach at mile 50, it was dark enough to use my flashlight. The dark had set in both literally and figuratively. Chris O’Connor was originally going to pace me, but due to scheduling conflicts he ended up unable to pace me. My friend Craig Slagel, whom I first met at Western States training camp, graciously agreed to help pace me at the last minute. I actually didn’t think I needed a pacer, but Ted thought it seemed like a good idea. Craig is running the Leadville 100 next weekend though, and is still recovering from the Hardrock 100, AND did a 12 hour volunteer shift at the Tennessee Valley aid station. So, we agreed that he would jump in at mile 62, where the Tennessee Valley aid station was located. I ran with Kim and her pacer, Jason, until mile 62. I really owe them big time because this was the darkest part of my race. I’m not sure why, when or how, but soon after leaving the aid station at mile 50 I became really certain that I could not finish and that I was not going to finish. I made up my mind to drop at mile 75 at the next visit to Rodeo Beach. I knew there was nothing wrong with me physically, but I *knew* that my race was to soon be over. I stayed positive though when Kim and Jason asked me how I was doing because there’s nothing more annoying than whiners when you yourself are trying to soldier through a race. Kim was running strong and I knew she would finish. I didn’t want to hinder her. Yet, I was slowing them down. And yet, they wouldn’t leave me. I told them to go ahead, but they kept a watchful eye on me until we picked up Craig at TV aid station. If it weren’t for Kim and Jason, I might not have gone that far. I don’t know. I planned my race report. I was going to start out by saying “I wish this could be a report about perseverance and overcoming adversity but it’s not.” I started hoping I would get really sick or fall and break my ankle or something that gave me a better excuse than “I am not a strong person and lack mental fortitude.” I kept with Kim and Jason though since they offered me no alternative.

Craig Talks Me Off the Cliff:

(Danni and Craig before the start, photo courtesy of Becky)

When we arrived at mile 62, I promptly told Ted to meet me at Rodeo Beach at 6 a.m. I figured that since I was going to drop he may as well get some sleep. Evidently my plans were written all over my face because Ted gave me a disapproving look and said NO. Craig quickly went to work encouraging me and cheering me up. I told him I didn’t care if I made the cut-off at mile 75 and I thought 75 miles was plenty far to run and something to be proud of. Somehow he worked some major magic on me and I found myself quickly believing that I was absolutely going to finish. I babbled about how I was all upset and planning to drop and how weird it felt to suddenly have the opposite feeling. Craig gave me so much encouragement and did such a good job of pacing me. I doubt I could have finished without him.

All Through the Night:

Running all night is kind of cool. It went relatively quickly. However, the most I could stomach food-wise was one AccelGel every 45 minutes. Craig set a timer on his watch and made me eat on schedule. This was helpful because I would have only had one per hour which might not have been enough. Anyhow, it became cold and foggy and although I couldn’t see anything, I could hear the waves crashing and the foghorn. It was really neat.

Evidently, I was not using good technique running downhill earlier in the race because I trashed my knees and the fronts of my ankles (the curve where the foot meets the ankle). Normally poor downhill technique trash the quads. My quads were fine. They aren’t even sore now. But man I was suffering on the downhills. I felt great on the uphills. But the downhills started getting pretty tricky for me. Despite how poorly I was doing on the downhills, I made it to mile 75 with about 15 or so minutes to spare. I had some miso soup and coffee and we headed out for the final loop.

Run Another Day:

My inability to run downhill became even more prominent on the final loop (miles 75-100). Craig tried to coach me and did show me a way to shuffle that took pressure off my knees and allowed me to go a little more quickly than I was. However, on the rocky descents I was too scared of falling to even shuffle. I was literally faster going up than down. But I’m proud to say I was pretty strong on the climbs.

The downhills soon became agonizing. By the time we approached Muir Beach aid station for the final time I was so exhausted and tired of suffering on the downhills that I started crying like a tired toddler. Craig was very patient though and assured me that I was doing great. I made jokes through my tears because I was lucid enough to comprehend the absurdity of a grown woman crying because she was tired. I rolled into the Muir Beach aid station all trembly and tear stained. I’m sure it was pretty ridiculous to see. But Flora, who was volunteering, (I think it was Flora) put some ice in my bandana and wrapped it around my neck which felt a little like the equivalent of giving the tired infant his blankie. And what I mean by that is that I stopped crying and felt a bit better.

Miles 91-96/The Jerk miles:

There’s a part in the movie “The Jerk” where Bernadette Peters’ character is sleeping and Steve Martin’s character says to her:

I know we've only known each other four weeks and three days, but to me it seems like nine weeks and five days. The first day seemed like a week and the second day seemed like five days. And the third day seemed like a week again and the fourth day seemed like eight days. And the fifth day you went to see your mother and that seemed just like a day, and then you came back and later on the sixth day, in the evening, when we saw each other, that started seeming like two days, so in the evening it seemed like two days spilling over into the next day and that started seeming like four days, so at the end of the sixth day on into the seventh day, it seemed like a total of five days. And the sixth day seemed like a week and a half. I have it written down, but I can show it to you tomorrow if you want to see it.

This is relevant because my race can easily be similarly described. The first 20 miles felt like 5 miles, the next 30 miles felt like 30 miles, the next 12 miles felt like 100 miles, the next 30 miles felt like about 40 miles, and the next 5 miles felt like another 100 miles. . . I had always assumed that if I could just make it to mile 90 it would be in the bag. I mean, 10 miles isn’t that far. And after 90 miles, wouldn’t a person just feel great knowing he has run that far? Boy I was wrong. At mile 91 I was honestly wondering how I was going to endure another 9 miles. And the next 5 mile section included some of the most brutal climbs in that loop, including the infamous steps up from Pirates Cove.
(photo courtesy of Becky)

But, as with the preceding miles, Craig got me there. But those were some hard miles. I was seriously wondering if it would ever end of if I would forever be trapped in the Marin Headlands relentlessly engaged in forward motion without sleep. But boy, I was so glad to climb those stairs for the last time, climb the monster climb after that for the last time, and all the other evil climbs leading to the final descent to TV aid station at mile 96. Craig and I agreed that since his car was at TV aid station, and since I could handle the last 4 miles alone, I would let my iPod pace me to the finish. The miles between TV and Rodeo Beach include some scary steps down – steep. I was so glad to have those done for the last time. I finally made it to the top of the ridge and saw Rodeo Beach below. I could “smell the barn.” Just as I was beginning to relish the feeling I felt a prominent explosion in my shoe. I figured the added drama of limping to the finish was appropriate. About 1/8th of a mile from the finish, this guy who almost fell off a cliff when he fell asleep running (Craig and I passed him and were very alarmed and tried to get him to come with us but he wouldn’t), came sprinting up to me. He asked if I wanted to run it in with him but I couldn’t sprint like he could. I encouraged him to pass me. This was fortuitous because I was excited about being DFL (dead last). Finally, I was at the finish and Sarah the race director gave me a big hug and I was grinning ear to ear. My legs were swollen like water ballons and my feet hurt and were disgusting and my legs were black with filth but I did it. And I was so happy!!!

Looking and smelling like a million bucks, Ted and I made our way to the fancy Fairmont hotel where I soaked in a nice bath. I couldn’t bring myself to do the ice-bath thing since I was already shivering as if I had the flu. I took a quick snooze before we headed to the Tonga Room for dinner. We had a lovely celebration and then I crashed. I was so completely out and slept for a good 10 hours. Today I am in much better shape than I expected since last night I could hardly move.




The Long and Short of It:

This was definitely a team effort. And the team certainly included many people who weren’t there. I thought of so many people at different times. Ted went to every single aid station and was the best crew ever. I’m so glad he was there. I couldn’t have done it without him there. No question about it. Not only did he keep me honest (I knew that he wouldn’t let me drop unless I was injured or otherwise needed medical attention) but he provided hugs when I needed them, reassurance and love. And as he does with all other things, he tolerated me. For example, I brought no less than 4 hats but would ask for “my hat.” “No Ted the other hat.” You get the picture!

That was an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything but I think I can comfortably go to my grave having run only one 100 mile race. Some other glutton for punishment can have my Western States spot!!! I’ll pace or crew next time ;)

If you're going to San Francisco. . .

(photo from Headlands Hundred website)

Well, I don't have any flowers for my hair but I have a LOT of AccelGels, pairs of shoes and ginger candy. That's right folks, it's showtime. I got a really good night sleep last night (I slept from 10-8ish!) and am all packed and ready to rumble. I've been studying the course map and remembering to stay flexible, it will get better, it will be hard, it won't be that bad, smile. . . (I am reminded of The Jerk where Navin says "All I need is this thermos, this lamp and this chair, that's all I need. . . ")

Tonight I'm having dinner with Rachel, my friend who I didn't befriend until we were in France in 1995, even though we went to High School and college together. I was terrifed of her because she was so goth and scary looking with an evil glare. We were roomates for awhile and she was one of my lovely bridesmaids. Remember Rachel now? She was the tall one! Then she got married right before we moved out here and I haven't seen her since. I'm REALLY excited to see my pal Rachel!!! I can't wait I can't wait I can't wait!!!

Below is the link to the website. You can see if I make it to miles 50, 75 and the finish. The earliest I would make it to mile 50 is 7 p.m. -- I expect it will be later than that. But who knows. I really have no strategy except to stay ahead of cutoffs.

Don't worry about me though. I have so much support and love that no matter what happens I'll be feelin' good. With that I want to give a special shout-out to Anne Wright and Lucia, who are such supportive and awesome sisters-in-laws. And I'll be wearing my bracelet from Deb and Ruth so I can remember to dig deeper. And I'll be thinking about all my friends. I love you friends and family! I'm the luckiest girl ever!

http://www.pctrailruns.com/Headlands_Hundred.htm

A "must-do" and highly recommended (by me) ultra!!!

(taken by me at 2007 run)

Yay! It's the Swan Crest 57k people! Brad updated the website. It's Saturday September 6. It's totally self-supported, but having other folks running at the same time eases the mind with regards to the big grizzly bears who live along the course. Despite being self-supported, there's a great dinner the night before in Swan Lake, MT, where you can then camp or otherwise lodge. And there's beer.

(also taken by me during the 2007 run)

This run is really pretty. I realize it's not very easy to get out here, but if you've been looking for an excuse, this is a good one. Early fall is possibly the best time of year out here. And, if you're local, you may as well give it a try (unless you're injured or something). Anyhow, I highly recommend this run.

Last year was a bad smoke season and hopefully this year will be relatively clear. Nonetheless, it was gorgeous. Here are my pictures from last year. Do it do it do it do it!

ANNIVERSARY HIKE in GLACIER NATIONAL PARK

This weekend Ted and I hiked the Gunsight Pass trail in celebration of our 6th wedding anniverary. The weather was fantastic. This is a beautiful hike, as you can see from the pictures.



Pictured above is the Gunsight Lake welcome marmot. He poses for pictures for all the tourists hoping to see wildlife.
Pictured above is one of the many mountain goats we encountered. I believe there is some sort of goat mafia endeavoring to establish a toll system on the trails. These guys use the trails more than humans do and hesitate to let the monkeys past. I was waiting for a demand of snacks.

Pictured above is me pathetically crossing a snow field. I don't think I would have slid to my death off a cliff, but for some reason crossing this snow field gave me vertigo. Not only that, by crossing in this manner I froze my hands which hurt badly when as they thawed. The tips of my fingers on my left hand are still numb. Weird, eh?
Above, goat mafia.
Above, our only bear encounter. OK it's not a bear but it's cute.

This goat was following us. He would stop and sort of hide, pretending he wasn't following us. But we knew better. It's hard to miss a pointed horned animal following you with great interest.
Ahhhh. Finished. Total hike was about 19 miles. Saturday we hiked 13 miles to Sperry Chalet which had about 5000 feet total elevation gain. Yesterday we hiked back to Lake McDonald where we are in the above picture. Yesterday's hike was just down down down off the mountain. I'm actually pretty sore which is probably not so great but I'm sure I'll feel recovered by next weekend :)

STELLA!!!

I have some better pictures of Stella Rand on my cell phone but I have no way of getting them onto my computer (that I am aware of). Here is my little niece though with her rose :)

And here is dad (my brother Dave) and the grandparents (my parents)!!! I will post pictures of mom and baby when I have some good ones -- which I intend to take when I go visit over Labor Day weekend!!!

I am not a fast runner

I've been having a great taper -- I've been sleeping and resting but workout out just enough to keep from getting sluggish. What was missing was good leg-turnover to shake out the antsy-ness that invariably creeps in when you're tapering from a long training cycle. So, this morning I laced up and hit the track. Since I haven't done speedwork in over a year, I didn't want to overdo it. I decided to run "the mile."

After a mile warmup, I took off. Chariots of Fire could be heard faintly in the background. Since I'm all rested, my legs felt great. The first lap of a speedworkout always feels great because it takes awhile for my body to even know what hit it. I felt like I was on fire. First lap: 1:50. Ummmmmm. . . ok I'm warm! Definitely warm.

The second lap was still great feeling, though I cruised in at 3:35. In the third lap, I became aware that I could scarcely breathe. My legs still felt awesome but my lungs were in total complete shock. They hadn't even run quickly through an airport in years. That firey bad feeling creeped in and I began to get that tingly feeling in my gums that I get when my breathing is labored. The last time I felt this was during an induced asthma attack when I participated in a medical research study at the UW Hospital.

Finally, the final lap arrived. My legs were still fresh and felt great -- I had to push on despite my inability to breathe. I gave it all I had! I felt like I might pass out due to the lack of oxygen but I was running as fast as I could! AND I FINISH! In 7:13. . .

It's kind of comical I think. I'll spare you the self-loathing and comparisons to back when I actually did speedwork regularaly --- but suffice it to say that miles and miles and miles of nothing but slow running begets slowness.

But it was a fun workout. I miss speedwork. If I finish and recover from Headlands I think I do want to return to the track. My lungs will thank me!

I finally made my own kombucha tea

Cheryl sent me a "mother" -- which is in my mutha's case a huge floppy disk with which you produce batches of kombucha tea. Here, below, is the final tea that has been. . . er. . . fermenting for 10 days.

Isn't it pretty? I've been buying this stuff at the store (GT's) and I like the "Gingerade" so I juiced my own ginger to add to the tea. Below is the ginger juice. First time I've used the juicer in quite some time. By the way, ginger juice also goes very well with rum and orange juice -- who knew?
Below are the final bottles of gingery kombucha. I ended up with 9 pints I believe. I left a little to start the next batch. I'm pretty excited. Thanks Cheryl for the mutha. Devon, whose link I added to the right, also makes her own kombucha. This batch is named "Devonbucha" since she won the Vermont 100.
The inside of my fridge. Everything I need. Kombucha, beer, grapeseed mayo, pickles and olives. And other stuff.

The 5k that wasn't

I had been planning to run a 5k this morning, which is something I haven't done in more than a year, but instead I slept until 11:30. I honestly can't remember the last time I slept that late. I mean, I first woke up early and made the decision to stay in bed, but still. Unfortunately, Sonja decided to liberate herself from the yard by pulling a slat from the wooden fence and jumping through her new "door." Evidently, she spent the morning visiting all the neighborhood dogs and hanging out in their respective yards. Ted slept late too and neither of us heard the various door bell rings, knocks on the door and other efforts to summon the irresponsible owners of the crazy red pup terrorizing the neighborhood. It was really embarassing, especially when I met a neighbor who lives across the alley and had to admit that I live in the house with the terrible weed problem along the alley. It's bad enough to be the irresponsible dog owner. . . add to that the neglectful homeowner. So, Ted and I are devoting the day to weeding and weedkilling in hopes that we will redeem ourselves in the eyes of our many neighbors.

These pictures are from several weeks ago when we went to see the Glacier Symphony perform "pops" music at Rebecca Farm. Ty and Leanne invited us. I thought these were nice pictures. I'm posting them to spice up my otherwise mundane blog post.

ENFIN!

Make sure you shout "enfin!" in your head in your cheeziest french accent, and maybe raise a pointed finger for emphasis. That's the feeling I'm going for here. And the reason for this is that the weekend concluded my 100 mile training -- I now get to taper. Again. And knock-on-wood, this will be IT for real.

Friday night Iris and I did a full-moon run in Glacier National Park. Due to unannounced road closure before Logan Pass, we were forced to do our run in a less interesting bit of the park, though it was still pretty amazing compared to say, a midnight run through Newark, NJ. We ran 14 miles at a pretty decent clip, which was pretty tough for me in the middle of the night. The road was banked which resulted in much soreness and difficulty. It was a great idea in theory that just didn't execute as planned. Oh well.

Sunday Leanne and I ran in Herron Park and again endeavored on our relentless quest for the trail to Blacktail Mountain. Since the last effort (not counting last weekend's debacle) I obtained a rough map and a HINT from our friend Jandy. The hint took us on a completely new route that, much to our delight, took us to a single-track trail that took us 7 miles up and very near Blacktail Mountain. Leanne had to turn around to get home to do good deeds for elderly neighbors or something, so we did not explore further. After she left, I went back up on logging road, not in the mood to navigate dense forest alone (read: creepy!) and more in the mood for iPod tunage and sure footing.

Much of the run was just magic. The sky was an intense blueberry color and all seemed right with the world. Running felt easy and the solitude of the surrounding mountains provided an indescribable euphoria frequently felt in beautiful places. I thought to myself: this is good.

Somehow my spidy sense led me up to the same place Leanne and I found by single-track and I mentally mapped a huge area that was previously mysterious and unknown to me. I was really torn between continuing further than Leanne and I had travelled -- to see if it went to Blacktail - and saving this adventure for a time when we could all (including Iris, who too has tirelessly searched for THE ROUTE) adventure together. I started to feel hot (it got up to nearly 90) and thirsty and worried about my water supply. This was my excuse for returning back. The euphoria turned to tiredness and thirst and thoughts of dinner. All told, I ran 34 miles yesterday. It took me a really long time (maybe that's why it felt easy?) so the "time on my feet factor" was there.

I didn't bring my camera because I didn't expect the day to be remarkable or new.

I would like to reflect on my training heretofore. I feel like I've trained pretty hard, but last night as I reviewed by log I realized I've only run a few weeks over 80 mpw and a total of 7 weeks above 70 miles mpw. My longest run was 40 miles and I ran about 8 or so 30-40 mile runs. I have done some back-to-backs, though not since before the last taper. When reduced to paper, I'm not as thrilled with my training as I would like to be. But there's nothing I can do now but taper properly and get my mental game on.

I'M AN AUNTIE!!!!

Stella Katherine Rand, my niece!!! I don't yet have pictures that I can directly post, but here is a link to the hospital pictures. Tina says Stella looks like me.

LINK

So Stella Katherine was born a week after Stella Kate. Stella Katherine is my brother David's daughter while Stella Kate is my BFF David's daughter.

Stella Stella

oh Stella

Stella I love you Stella I love you Stella I love you

(Interpol song lyrics)

Gosh I almost started crying when I saw the pictures of little Stella Rand. I can't wait to meet her! How am I going to wait until Labor Day weekend?

Perhaps I shouldn't find this so funny. . . but I do. So funny, in fact, that I'm posting it here.


Plight Of Missing Hikers Will Make Great Movie

Perhaps it was bound to happen eventually. . .

After running 22 miles on the XC ski trails with Leanne, Iris and Callie, Leanne dropped me off at the "trailhead" for the trail that leads from Blacktail back to Herron Park. My thought was that I might finally find the "direct" route back -- the one that Jandy showed us last summer but we haven't been able to find since. If not, I would get some extra miles in which was in fact a good thing. Down I headed, not really bothering to make noise. I figured mountain lions would just be drawn to me and want to eat me to shut me up. The trail down is much steeper than I realized. Going up is hard but it's almost tougher going down. Spiders seem intent on building webs across the trail, which left me with a webby face. The route is beautiful though with views of Flathead Lake and the grander range across the valley.

Going up the previous time, we observed that the trail was marked with orange flags. I figured I would follow the flags and see where they took me. Perhaps this would be my ticket to the direct route down. Or at least a dependable route that we could use in the future. At one point there must have been a fork in the trail and the flags took me to the right. I began to realize that the trail was wholly unfamiliar and there were aspects that would have certainly remembered. Yet it didn't occur to me that I should back and take the other route. I continued on. Afterall, maybe this was the direct route back.

I continued on following flags until I left the USFS boundary. There was no question at that point that I was on a different route than I had ever been on before and that even the direct route did not go this way. This realization though only came much later. At the moment, I just shrugged it off and kept moving forward, following the flags of course.

The trail ejected me onto a road. Just then a truck came down the road, filled with bearded toothless men and their junkyard dog on the back. The truck stopped and one man asked if I was ok. I said yes thanks and he continued on. At that point I realized that the road probably went somewhere if there was a vehicle on it (as opposed to a logging road, which was what I was accustomed to). I found where the trail continued on the other side of the road and continued my descent.

Eventually the trail ended and I was in logging road-land. The land where gazillions of logging roads cover the landscape like a net -- except that unlike a net they don't always connect and they don't always continue on. They frequently dead-end. Usually at a pile of logging mess. I kept following the flags though, because obviously the route was flagged to somewhere. Somewhere that would certainly get me to where I wanted to go. The flags took me to a deadend. However, the flags seemed to go straight up the side of a very steep and rather tall hill/mountain. Straight.up.the.side. I stood for a long time staring and contemplating, before finally deciding in my logical little mind that the route couldn't possible go that way -- of course a horse person or hiker marked this trail and no way would they go that route.

I turned around and tried a bunch of logging roads, only to end up at dead ends. I quickly realized I was more or less lost. I called Ted and told him I was lost and didn't know when I would be back. I'm sure he just loved that. After getting nowhere slowly (amid my frustration I spent more time walking) for awhile, I decided the smartest thing would be to retrace my steps back up to Blacktail where I could call Ted to pick me up. Except I couldn't even properly retrace my steps and somehow ended up on a different and new logging road. This period felt like being stuck in a maze -- it was so incredibly frustrating I was on the verge of tears. I did not feel like I was in danger, but felt like I was in danger of being out there for a long time and of running out of food and water. I even imagined having to spend the night in the horrible maze. I couldn't even retrace my stupid steps. I was so lost. So I followed along (just going, nowhere in particular) and came upon some cool bear tracks.







Eventually I came to a locked gate, which I knew I had not come through. I was so happy because the gate could only mean one thing. A real road that actual humans use to drive from place to place. On the other side was indeed a road. A real road that appeared to see vehicle traffic, at least on occassion. I decided to take it up towards Blacktail, figuring it might be like one of the random roads we ended on this morning. Perhaps it would even save me the climb to the top of Blacktail and would take me to the main road that leads to the top.

I came upon a bizarre homemade contraption that made a stream into a waterfall and poured into a trough. Maybe a horse trough? Realizing I would soon run out of water, I treated and took some of this cold clear water. I felt like my luck was improving since there's really not much water up there at all. As I celebrated my luck, I heard a car coming. It looked like a normal vehicle (unlike the one I described earlier) so I flagged it down. The drive informed me that I was heading to Kila, which is a town about 20 or so miles west of Kalispell. The run would be about 15 miles he said. The other direction would take me to Kalispell. That would be about 13 miles. Yes he was heading towards Kalispell and yes he would give me a ride.

On the ride to town, I was gently reminded that I should carry a light and did I have matches? All those flags are dirtbikers who randomly flag their own little favorite routes. Yeah they're all pink or orange so they're all useless, unless you happen to know which ones are yours. No they don't usually really go anywhere. The dirtbikers start on this road I was on (Patrick Creek Road) and do not intend to make it to Herron Park. None of these flaggers were headed my way. But for some reason I assume surely they were. Hmmm. I guess there's a reason my lack of common sense has failed to elude comment throughout my life.

I rode with the nice man (he had infants in car seats so I figured him *not* a scary man) to his neighborhood which was about a mile from mine. I walked, bear spray in one hand, cell phone in the other, and gabbed with Iris and then Leanne while I walked home. I was worried that Ted was going to be super mad at me. He wasn't. Ted is almost always very sweet, and I think he knew I had learned my lesson.

So what did I learn? First, that despite being on the BOD of Foys to Blacktail Trails, the route from Foys to Blacktail is STILL a complete mystery to me. I'm going to go with Jandy again and see if I can get it right. Second, I should always carry a light, especially if I can going to be running long alone. Third, I am an idiot. Fourth, there are definitely bears up there. Fifth, I have no sense. Sixth, be ALWAYS aware of route in case I need to retrace my steps and NEVER take for granted the possibility of getting lost or maybe even hurt. Finally, if I don't know the route and have never found it in the past, the time to look again is not when I'm alone and not from the opposite direction.

Things could have been much more unpleasant but I got lucky and managed to get through the stupid thing with almost no drama (just a couple sniveling moments with near-tears). Funnily, I got 37 miles in which was more or less what I was aiming for. Above all, I'm really glad to be home.

WELCOME TO THE WORLD STELLA KATE WOODBURY!!!

David and Ellen (well mostly Ellen) gave birth yesterday to a beautiful baby girl. The world will be a better place with another Woodbury/Mir. No pressure Stella but I have high expectations! I'm counting on you, Hedy, Maggie and Georgia to turn things around :-)

4th of July in Montana